Forever After (13 page)

She uncrossed her arms and stepped toward him, her heart warm and glowing.  "Do you know what you're doing?"

He cocked his head and a ridge creased his forehead as he lifted his brows.  "What?"

"You're sharing.  How does it feel?"

He smiled tentatively.  "Not too bad."  Taking his hands from his pockets, he pulled her closer.  "You know, you don't need an hour.  We could take a shower together."

"A shower with you?"

"Um hm.  Water, soap, us."

She looked around the room.  "But the kitchen..."

Before she knew what was happening, he swept her into his arms.  She grabbed for his neck as he dangled her legs over his arm.  "Clean-up can wait."

He carried her up the stairs as if she weighed less than a spark plug.  With each step, she became more excited, aroused, worried.  What would Seth expect?  Did he feel as much as she did?  Would they be awkward together?

At the top of the steps, Seth saw the open bathroom door and took Darcy inside.  He set her down next to the blue tub, put his arms around her, and gave her a long, lingering kiss that had her clutching his shoulders.  Such broad shoulders.  Soon, she'd be able to touch them, kiss them.

Seth slipped his fingers under her tube top and caressed her back.  "No bra," he whispered.  "You make me crazy in outfits like this."  He nibbled her ear.

Her knees shook.  "It's my around-the-house-when-it's-hot outfit."  Was that squeaking voice hers?

Seth splayed his fingers under her top and said, "Raise your arms."

She didn't think of not obeying.  And when the knit material was gone, Seth stared.

"This is an equal opportunity bathroom," she teased as his heated gaze caressed her.  She reached toward him and tugged his shirttails out of his slacks.  Keeping her eyes on his, she unfastened one button at a time...slowly.

After she pushed his shirt from his shoulders, she raked her fingers lightly down the middle of his chest.

He sucked in a breath.  "We're going to take this slow," he reminded himself out loud.

"We don't have to go slow."

He hooked his fingers in her shorts and panties, skimming them down her legs.  "Slow gives the most pleasure."

Is that all this was for him?  Pleasure?  Her feelings were all wrapped up with her body's response.  She wanted to ask the question, but the words wouldn't come.  She didn't want anything to spoil the moment.

Seth trailed his hand reverently from her shoulder, over one breast, to her waist, lightly through the nest of red-gold hair, down her thigh, bestowing warmth like a stream of sunshine.  His voice was thick with desire.  "You're everything I imagined."

Darcy met his eyes, her passion overtaking any inhibitions.  "I want to touch you."

Seth undid his slacks and stepped out of them.  He had a splendid physique.  He was lean but his muscles were well-defined, sinewy, not pumped up.  His stomach was flat and solid, his hips slim, his legs long and powerful.  When he removed his navy briefs, she stared in awe at his vehement masculinity.  As his eyes caught hers, she felt herself flush.

"I want you," he said simply.

Nothing he said would have thrilled or flattered her more.  Nor could she doubt the fervor in his eyes.

Seth reached into the shower, pulled the curtain, and turned the water on full throttle.  Darcy stepped inside.

When he joined her, she stepped away from him, not certain what to do next.  Seth smiled and pointed to the spray of water.  "Wet your hair, bright eyes.  I'm going to shampoo it for you."

His voice, his mysterious grey eyes, were hypnotic as she backed into the stream and rinsed her hair and body.  She watched as he picked up the bottle of shampoo on the edge of the blue tub, poured some in his hand, and rubbed his palms together.  He slowly approached her and stopped when his toes touched hers.

He reached above her temples and in a circular motion began to massage her scalp.  He kissed the left corner of her mouth, then the right.  As he massaged the back of her head, he kissed her full on the lips, penetrated the opening with his tongue and slid inside.  Slow was going to kill her.

Darcy drowned in the sight of Seth's naked body, his awesome maleness, his touch and his taste.  Her arms twined around his neck as she kissed him back, wheedled her way into his mouth and savored the tactile sensation of his wet chest against her breasts.  The hairs abraded her nipples and she moved sinuously against his powerful hardness, longing for fulfillment.

Seth ended the kiss with characteristic slowness, letting his lips cling to hers as wisps of steam circled their heads.  When she gazed at him speculatively, he explained, "Just easing up a bit.  We have a long way to go."

"I can't wait to get to the destination," she said breathlessly.

He chuckled and kissed her nose.  With adroit fingers, he helped her wash the shampoo from her hair and stooped for the bar of soap.  After lathering his hands, he began at her shoulders.  His thumbs kneaded while his fingertips stimulated from her neck to her fingertips.

Darcy welcomed his touch and the arousing heat.  But then he soaped his hands again and stroked the outline of her breasts.  She tingled and trembled.

Seth murmured, "You're lovely.  So feminine."

When her eyes zoomed to his, she blurted out, "I've always wished I was bigger."

Seth rubbed his thumbs over both nipples, now peaked in anticipation.  "You're perfect."  He took a step back, let his soapy hands glide down her waist, over her hips.  "Just perfect."

Seth's hands left no spot of her untouched, but he didn't linger too long at any one place.  Just long enough so her heart quickened, her breasts throbbed, heat whirled and tension coiled in a secret place.

After he turned her around and rinsed the soap from her back, he exchanged places with her, handed her the bar of soap, and said with a devilish grin, "It's your turn."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Darcy stared at the soap as if it were an alien object, lifted her eyes, then swept them over Seth's long masculine form.

A smile tilted his lips, but his eyes were serious.  "Forget the shampoo.  Just begin anywhere you want."

She'd never experienced anything like this with Gary--this total intimacy.  And she knew no matter what Seth said about no strings, she'd be tied to him forever.  Plain and simple, she loved him.  Deeply, irrevocably, incurably.  No matter how fleeting their relationship might be, no matter how much pain might be lurking around the corner.

Squelching any inhibitions, excited by every aspect of what she intended to do, Darcy took the soap in her hand.

She played her fingers in the whorls of black hair on Seth's chest, smoothed them out, then teasingly mapped a D.  "Raise your arms," she ordered softly, pleased with her power.

When he had, she soaped down his sides, letting her hands linger along his ribs.  She spent time circling his nipples, delighting in the expressions flitting across his face as she toyed with the small bronze discs.  His nipples hardened under her fingers.  Shyness forgotten, she meandered around his navel before dipping to more vulnerable territory.

When her sudsy hand enclosed his potency, he blew out a long draft of air, his eyes darkening to pewter.  The more she fondled, the more heat rippled and billowed in her womb.  Arousing him was arousing her.

He stayed her hands.  "It will be over far too soon if you keep that up," he explained in a husky voice.

He rinsed, turned off the water and stepped out of the tub.  Grabbing a light blue bath towel, he toweled off quickly.  When Darcy stepped out, he wrapped it around her, tucking it in at her breast.  Using the same towel was deliciously intimate.  He employed a hand towel to absorb the excess moisture in her hair.  He rubbed gently, patting, holding, finally releasing.

"Where's your hair dryer?"

"Under the vanity.  But I can--"

"It'll be my pleasure."

As he crouched down to get the dryer, Darcy marveled at the play of muscles in his legs and arms.  His backside was tight and smooth with only a few curling hairs.  Soon, she could touch him, taste him.  Her throat went dry.

When Seth stood, he pointed to the edge of the bathtub.  After she sat, he plugged in the hair dryer, turned it on, and picked up her brush.  She gave herself up to the heat of the dryer and the sensual sensation of Seth brushing through her hair.  When it was fluffy and soft around her face, Seth switched off the noise.  As she rose, he searched for something in his trouser pocket.  Then he whisked her into his arms, carrying her out of the bathroom to her bedroom.

He stood her next to the bed.  "Do you have any lotion?"

"On the tray on the dresser."  When she thought about Seth's hands massaging her, her knees buckled and she collapsed on the side of the bed.

He switched on the white ginger jar light, picked up the bottle, clicked open the top and sniffed.  He smiled.  "It's the same as your perfume.  Lay on your stomach," he suggested as he turned down the spread and the mint green sheet.  When she didn't move but stared at him, drinking in everything about him, he stepped close and unhitched her towel.  Patting the mattress, he encouraged, "Come on."

The sheet was cool under Darcy's body.  But maybe that was because she felt as if she were on fire.  Seth applied lotion to her feet, rubbing her arches, the balls, each toe.  His fingers roamed up her ankles, calves, teased the backs of her knees until she felt as if she couldn't keep still.  She was tempted to turn over and pull him to her, but the opportunity was lost when he dribbled more lotion into his hand to warm it, then soothed up her thighs to the rounded moons of her derriere.  His fingers feathered and teased until goose bumps sprung out on her arms and her toes curled.

His long fingers almost surrounded her waist.  Gliding his hand under her arms, he barely touched her breasts, but the brief contact was sufficient to make her swallow a gasp.  When he reached her shoulders, he swished her hair to one side and returned to a massaging stroke that loosened any knots of tension until she felt like a moldable lump of clay.

She mumbled into the pillow, "You're an expert.  Do you do this often?"

His hands stopped.  The question had just tumbled out rhetorically; she hadn't expected an answer.  But his silence meant he thought she had.  She flipped over and was surprised by the look of sadness on his face.

It was quickly disguised with cynicism as he said, "I haven't been celibate."

"I didn't think you had," she answered reasonably.

Seth took a breath, trying to sort his reaction to her question.  She had every right to ask.  After all, he'd asked her.  But somehow he didn't like the tables turned.  Maybe because his answer was more than once.  Did she make him feel ashamed of the past?  No.  Sex was a natural expression of pleasure-giving between two consenting adults. 

Okay.  Then why was he so damned uncomfortable with the question?  Maybe because he'd never taken this much time before.  Maybe because he'd never shampooed a woman's hair or thought he'd want to.  Maybe because this was Darcy and he couldn't compare her or what they were about to do to any woman or past experience.

He grazed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and sat next to her.  "You're one in a million.  Do you know that?"

When she shook her head, her lack of coyness speared to his soul.  She caused feelings within him he couldn't identify, but they were welcome because they felt so right.  He was going to take her to a height she'd never reached, a place she'd never been.  Bracing a hand on either side of her, he indulged in a long, intoxicating kiss that sent his pulse soaring.  Then he stretched out beside her, propped himself on his elbow, and with unhurried intensity absorbed every detail of her body from head to toe.

As his gaze combed her thoroughly, he could see the pulse at Darcy's throat speed up.  She moved restlessly.  He wondered if that was from anxiety or because she was as aroused as he was.  It was time to find out.  And if she wasn't, he would lead her there.  He wanted to give to her.  That too was new.  Taking had always been more important.

He lifted her hand and placed it on his chest.  When she'd touched him in the shower, desire had clawed at him, demanding release.

She took his cue, turned on her side, and roamed her other hand from his wrist, up his forearm, over his biceps.  "You're so strong, so hard."

His hand cruised along her collarbone, up her neck to her ear.  "You're so soft."  His fingers detailed the delicate curve of her ear as he buried his nose in her neck.  "And you always smell so good, like flowers."

Darcy was so small beside him, so precious and fragile.  She bent into him, seeking more tactile contact.  With open-mouthed kisses, he followed the light blue tracery of veins above her breasts, then raised his head.  "Your skin is so perfect."  Sliding his fingers into her hair, he mussed it.  "Your hair is silky, like a child's.  Untouched by anything sticky or fake.  You're you.  You don't pretend to be someone you're not.  That quality is so rare.  Especially now when women compete with men, dress like them, try to act like them.  You're special, Darcy, and sometimes I can't believe you're real."

"You make me feel beautiful, Seth.  I can be wearing coveralls, have grease on my cheek, and when you look at me, I feel like a Vogue model."